


Washed away with the waves

by Pearlislove



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29679141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlislove/pseuds/Pearlislove
Summary: Mags, the female mentor from District Four,  is laying splayed out on the floor in front of the snack table. The old woman is deathly still as her body twitch and her eyes stare off into the distance, not seeing the world around her at all.  Wiress is on her knees by her side, screaming helplessly without reply and shaking the twitching limbs as though it will make her recover and get up when she looks dead already.She can't die. Every Victor that look at them think the same. Mags can not die.
Relationships: Mags & Finnick Odair, Mags & Lyme, Victors & Victors
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So my studies to become a speech pathologist plus binging all the mags fanfics I could find for basically a whole night and day straight and then subsequently rereading parts of Catching Fire led me to this. Enjoy!

The first thing they hear is a thud. The sound of something heavy falling down on the floor outside the cumbicles assigned to each district. 

Normally, it would make the victors jump sky high. They’d produce weapons and they’d rush to see what had fallen, the instincts from the games still running like blood through their veins. But the canon has only just gone, it's the middle of the bloodbath at the conrcocupia and no one has the time and energy to care about a tiny suspicious sound. Not when they know their tribute might fall any second.

Eventually Wiress comes outside and she screams, her high pitched wails penetrating the walls that surrounds the other Victors. At that point, people start to react. But they only react to Wiress, not knowing nor caring what it is that she is screaming at. 

"Nuts is loose volt!" 

Beetee sigh as he hears the hollored complains and expletives. It bothers him, that they are so uncaring when they can literally hear a womanscreaming only a few feet away, but it doesn’t surprise him any more. As their last tribute has her throat slit by a career from Two, he finally steps out to check on her, a twinge of genuine worry hitting his heart as he realize how long she’s kept it up by now. He step out of the cubicle, and though he thinks he will only find Wiress, he also fins something much, much worse. 

Mags, the female mentor from District Four, is laying splayed out on the floor infront of the snack table. The old woman is deathly still as her body twitch and her eyes starre off into the distance, not seeing the world aorund her at all. Wiress is on her knees by her side, screaming helplessly without reply and shaking the twitching limbs as though it will make her recover and get up when she looks dead already.

"Finnick!" Beetee screams, too, rushing to his partners aid as the other Victprs suddenly come running en mass, trusting the sound of Beetee calling mroe than they ever did Wiress.

"Mags!" Finnick is first to approach, falling down in the spot next to her as Beetee pulls Wiress away, fitting tooth and nail to try and get back to the older woman though her screams have ceased. 

Brutus comes out next, and he has his phone in hand, calling for medical assistance before he’s even seen what is happening. He’s not alone, more and mroe of them filling through until they are all there, gathering in a circle around the morbid scene.

"When I came...She was...dead!" Wiress tries to explain herself as she sobs into her partners arms, trailing off and picking up until even the other Victors understand, shame in their eyes as she they look away from her.

If they hadn’t ignored Wiress screaming, if they hadn’t written her off because they knew she wasn’t all there, then they would have found Mags sooner.

They would’ve been quicker to help the person they did care about.

For a few tense moments, all they seem to do is stand and wait for someone with real medical expertise to arrive. Finnick remains down beside her, moving her head to rest in his lap as he fruitlessly try to force her to react to him. 

But no matter what he says or do, there is no real reaction. Her limbs keep twitching, her right arm and leg moving to no avail, and it’s almost like watching a fish out of water. Her vacant eyes never moves at all, and among the Victors there is soon an opening in the circle where her unseeing gaze falls. She is not dead, but neither is she alive.

Finally, the medics does arrive to help her. They are hurried, none too gently pulling her away from Finnick as they take her vitals and inspect the head wound revealed by the damp patch of red blooming in her white hair. No one's seen the streak of red at the corner of the table, but now they all stare at it. Johanna Mason has to hold on to Finnick to keep him from attacking those who are trying to help, and when he looks around he can tell they sympathize with her plight. For him, whoever, heart wins over head as he watch them care for the only mother he has ever known. 

When they go, the Medics make a point of insisting that she will recover, but the faces of the men and women around them inform them how much the Victors believe them, and the hurry to leave.

After that, no one really cares about the games, nor who will win that year, anymore. It’s not important in the light of loosing one of the oldest surviving victors. Mags female tribute from four was decapitated while her mentor laying dying on the floor back in the Capitol, and Finnick can only be grateful he does not have to take over her duties during the games as well. It gives an emotional help, but practically it makes nothing easier. Without asking for permission, Johanna follows him and take up the empty space in his square, napping next to him as though she knows that even just the presence of another person is what he need to keep from breaking.

In the evening, Beetee comes to him. He is quiet as a mouse when he opens the door and sneak inside, his touch is feather light as he shake the yougn mans shoulder, hating to disturb but knowing he need to wake him from his nap.

"Finnick?"

H looks up, tired and completely confused to see the eccentric inventor from three standing over him. "Why are you here?" He snaps, and the words sound harsher coming out than he intended them to be in his head. However, the D3 children are dead since shortly after the bloodbath, and he would have imagined that with the fragile, broken mind of his partner to care for, he would only be too happy to put a distance between them and the games.

"I couldn't make Wiress leave. Not with..." He trails off, saddened, but then snaps back to attention. "There is news about Mags, Finnick! Some Doctor has come to explain it all." He smile, opening the door to invite him outside. 

Finnick couldn't react fast enough at that. He jumped to his feet, shaking Johanna awake in the chair next to him. "Jo! Jo! Wake up!" He growl, roughly moving her body about so she will come to.

"What?!" The woman snaps awake instantly, reaching for a weapon that is not there, and only coming to completely as her hands find only air. "Fucking hell, Finnick, don't pull that shit!" She complained.

"There's news about Mags" Finnick informs her, and he knows he sounds like he’s a whinny little child when he speaks of it, but it does the tric as Johanna gather wits and sit up straight. 

"I got your boy!" She insists, suddenly focusing intently on Finnick's screen and the sixteen year olf boy runnig through the woods on it, his vitals displayed on the screen next to it. "Let me know how she is?" She then adds, not looking away from the live feeed as she reach up adjust something with the vitals on the second screen. "I'll tell you if he needs a gift or something."

Finnick nods, and finally let Beetee lead him outside to the Capitol doctor that is waiting for them in the main lounge. The doctor is young, clearly new to everything related to caring for victors as she look around her in slight awe. At every shout of surprise or anger coming out of the cubicles, she jump sky high. 

"Mr. Odair" She greets him as he comes out, stand up and offering a hand to shake. "I'm Dr. Calunda. I'm overseeing the care of Miss Shell?"

"Mags" Finnick insisted, shaking her hand firmly. "How is she?" He asks, nervously starting to pace back and forth in front of her. He just can not stand still. As walks, he’s vaguely aware of Beetee still standing behind his shoulder, listening in, but is eternally grateful that he doesn't try to interfere.

"Well, she suffered a stroke. It was fairly minor, thankfully, but we had to remove a sizable clot in order to avoid a repeat and the risk for secondary bleeding is still substantial." The Doctor began slowly, smiling sympathetically. When she saw he didn't understand, she continued. "If she starts bleeding internally at this point, specifically in or near her brain or heart, it will mean instant death. She is much too weak to withstand any more trauma.” 

Finnick doesn’t react. He can’t react, because the words ‘instant death’ are horrible and they cling on to his brain, winning over his nervous energy to keep him rooted in place. Swallowing, he hopes that she has something more to say, and that this is not where the tale ends.

"When will we know if she pulls through?" 

It's Brutus that asks the next question, coming out of his cubicle a moment after the doctor has stopped talking, and immediately making the woman jump sky high. Finnick is unsure why a big, violent man like him would care, but it’s a good question so he doesn’t protest.

"Well, uh, tomorrow? With any luck. In best case the immediate danger will pass during the night and we can let her wake up naturally tomorrow morning." The doctor says nervously, sizing the man up as she starts to fidget herself.

"So she's sedated?" Lyme comes to join Brutus, putting a steadying hand on his back - as if she fears he will lash out, if she’s not there to control her gigantic co-mentor. Finnick is not in the mood for another District Two Victor to come putting their nose in his business, but it’s not any career Victor, and he can’t complain. Lyme, undoubtedly, cared about Mags.

"Yes! Yes, of course..." The doctor nod at the new woman, looking like a broken toy. "We couldn't remove the clot while she was awake, so we had to put her under for the surgery. Besides, patients usually find it easier to…'wake up' into their new situation, after a traumatic event like this." She smile again, trying to make it soft and comforting.

  
  


They all nod back at the tiny woman. The Victors know nothing about strokes, or at least Finnick doesn't and he doubts someone else does, because the next minute everyone has returned to their cubicles. The doctor has gone away to be back with her patients at the hospital and the victors are once more consumed by the bloodshed and the children they are trying to save from it.

All except Lyme and Finnick, that is. The crown jewel of District Two remains standing where she is, observing the impossibly young man in front of her with tired eyes. Despite the many years since her victory, and the many years that lay between them, Finnick has never thought of Lyme as _old_. But when those dark eyes that glitter like gems observe him, it is all that he sees. She looks aged, as if she's seen too many warriors going down in front of her. Aged, as if her heart can’t bear to loose another one and it makes her tire of the life she’s force to live.

"Are you...okay? With this." It takes her a long time to speak, and it's awkward, but when her voice finally will carry it’s full of love and care. More so, than Finnick has ever heard a career express.

He doesn’t lie to her, even though the instinct is to not let on about the truth. "No. I am not okay with this." He says honestly, sighing. He is tired too, drawing a hand over his face. "It's Mags, Lyme. We need her. What will do we do without Mags?" And he's not only talking about himself when he says that they need her. 

He is talking about all of the victors that occupy the room around them. He's talking about Woof, who's lucid days are few and far between but always knows where he is when Mags hug him. He is talking of Haymitch and Chaff, who can be however drunk and confused, but still stand to attention when the matriarch of District Four walks by. In the end he is even referring directly back at Lyme, who is and always will be a ruthless career but still stopped to ask if Finnick was okay.

Because Lyme knew, it's what Mags would've wanted, and for her she'd do anything.

"I know" Lyme whispers in reply, pulling a hand past her eyes, and when she move it Finnick can see that she is actually crying. The eyes are now red rimmed and wet as she snivels pathetically, making him feel rather ill because she shouldn’t be so vulnerable. "I don't...I don't know where I'd be without her. She pulled me together after it." 

Finnick knows that by it she means the hunger games, and her victory. It was long before his time, of course, but he'd seen the reruns so many times that he knows how lethal she really is, when it comes down to it. How wild she’d been when they pulled her out. Mags had always managed to reach those that not even their own mentors knew how to fix. Lyme was only one of many.

"She will pull through." Brutus comes back then, wrapping his large muscular arm around Lyme the same way she held him earlier, and starts to lead her away. "Let's check on our kids, hmm? Time to mentor." He speaks softly but firmly, starring at her expectantly until his mentor nod and then they, too, are gone. 

It's just Finnick left. Finnick, and a tiny speck of blood on the floor where his mentor had fallen.


	2. Chapter 2

At the hospital, Finnick sits and waits. She's come out of surgery, she is recovering, but she won't wake up. Every time he nods off he thinks that she will be looking at him when he wakes up, but every time he wake she is still unconscious.

By the time morning hits, he can hear the nurses nervous chatter. They wonder if she will wake up at all, if the stroke or the surgery or the anesthesia was just too much for her mind and body to bear. They wonder how they will tell his as much. 

Finnick doesn't know, but he fears that they are right. He sits alone in his chair and shivers from all the terrible possibilities, until finally the slack body on the bed finally starts to squirm, moving about and struggling to force her eyes open. Fighting a battle of wills against her own failing body.

"Mags!" He jumps straight outta his chair as she finally come to, squeezing her hands tight in between his. "You're awake!" He shout, not able to limit himself with the joy in his heart.

Mags is not as joyful in her response. She stares at him with big, frightened eyes, and tries desperately to respond, but there is no response that Finnick can understand. It's all garbled, sounds and syllables mixing into what she seems to think is words, but it isn’t at all.

"What?" He looks at her, confused. "Say that again?" He ask, thinking perhaps she is just confused as well.

She tries again, and though she speaks with more care it sounds just as stupid and nonsensical as before. He tries not to react, but she must see how useless it is in his face, because er face creases, and the next time she opens her mouth she screams, desperately wailing and thrashing about in the bed like she doesn't know what else to do.

Panicked by this response, Finnick stands up, leaning over her to hold her shoulders and get her to calm down, but it's already too late by the time he realizes his mistake. With M,mags own panic tenfolding by having someone leaning over her, her right arm came flying up, hitting him square in the face and knocking him back.

She won her games by throwing herself and her attacker, who'd been trying to strangle her, straight down into a waterfall. It is several lifetimes gone, but the fear of the hands approaching her throat was as strong as ever.

She's still a Victor, wanting to survive no matter the cost.

Cradling his aching cheek, he sits down beside her instead, reaching to touch her am but staying far away from her throat and shoulder. She seems to have regained some control in the moments that pass, and without words she fusses at the red mark where she had hit him for a little while. He let her, knowing it's her way of apologizing for striking him in the first place.

"You made Lyme cry." He reveals when her hand finally drops, exhaustion forcing her to be still for a while. "She told me you pulled her through, after the arena." He then adds, and suddenly he wishes that she could tell him what it was that she did. How she managed to patch them all up so very well, even the ruthless and bloodthirsty careers. Even the ones that should be beyond saving.

Catching on to his thoughts, Mags looks as though she want to explain. Just like before, she starts to speak, but when the first word has been said she stops again and her eyes are so sad as she realizes that she will never make Finnick understand. Not in a long, long time. 

So, out of need to at least express her own feelings, if not the whole story, she settles for a sign. Her hand, gently placed over her heart as a sign of love. The other hand lay stiff at her side, the arm useless and slack like the left side of her face.

As he watch her sign, it hits Fnnick how absurd the situation really is. She's in a terrible state, perhaps even in terrible pain and yet she hasn't even tried to ask what happened to her. She only listens to Finnick, and tries to answer his questions instead.

Nervous, he chew on his lip. "I know. They're your children." He tells her, and he believes it because he's seen it. "That's why Brutus called the medic, Johanna is watching my tribute and Wiress don't want to leave the command, even though three’s tributes have died. Because they love you."

Hearing this, tears rise in the old woman’s eyes, and for an while Mags i nodding along to what he says, only to then frown. It takes her a few tries, but she gets his attention at last. 

"Fin" She says, and she looks as if she ran a marathon just pronouncing those three letters in a way that can be understood.

"Yes?" Finnick takes her hands again, squeezing them tight. They feel ice cold against his hot skin, and he wonders if it's her or he should look for another blanket. "I'm here Mags."

"W...wire" It's all she manages, and just like before it takes all she has. Her eyes close briefly when she can’t go on, but Finnick understands.

"She found you." He informs her gently, speaking of Wiress - the female winner from District Three. "She found you on the floor and she tried to make us come help, but we didn't understand until Beetee went to check on her." Finnick blushed as that, embarrassed and guilty. Wiress had really only tried to help. As well as she could, with her mind the way it was, she had tried to help Mags.

And they ignored her.

Mags nod. "I-in...tu…" She can not finish this word either, and she looks like Wiress when Beetee doesn't finish her sentences. Frustrated and lost.

Again, Finnick fill in the blanks. "Intuitive. Wiress is intuitiv, yes." He know what she wants to say, because it's the words that Beetee always uses. When anyone questions Wiress, he rebukes - "she is intuitive". "Her intuition saved you."

He can see that Mags i visibly more relaxed after that, comforted by the fact that she could still make him understand her if she really needed to. Her eyes flutter closed when she can’t keep them open anymore and she pats his hand the same way she always did when it was time to move on. Time to move on from another Victor teasing him, or a sore subject, or just move on from whatever was not gainful for them in that moment.

Now, it was time for Finnick to move on from her. 

He sighed. The last thing he wanted was to part from the woman in the bed next to him, even if she was going back to sleep, but in his brain he knew he had to. 

"I love you, mama." He leans forward and kisses her on her forehead. He has never, even called her 'mother' to her face, but now he wishes he could.

If they both make it back to District Four, he swears he will.


	3. Chapter 3

He goes back to his own District cubicle first. To his surprise, Johanna has been replaced by Seeder from District Eleven, but he doesn't mind. Seeder, much like Lyme, was a child of Mags. She was someone he could  _ trust. _

"Johanna was getting tired." She reports as she spots Finnick. "And Blight was getting antsy. He needed her to calm down."

Finnick nodded his head sharply. He understood the need to look after her District partner. He has just been doing the same, after all. "Chaff?" He asks, wondering about Seeder's partner.

"Off drinking with Mitch. Cornucopia deaths this year." The reply is obvious, but she seems to appreciate the thought. Then, almost shyly, she asks what  _ she _ wants to know. "Mags?"

He sighs deeply. "Awake, but exhausted. She can't seem to speak, it all comes out like gibberish." He explained, wondering what he will do about that. So much she wants to say, and no way for her to speak or him to understand.

"I'm sorry" Seeder smile sympathetically, getting off her chair to go to Finnick and pull him into a hug. He's not really a child anymore, but to her the difference is small. "The others will be happy to hear that she's alive."

"Yes" Finnick says, allowing himself a moment of weakness and to enjoy the comfort. Seeder smells like hay and her skin feels warm and sunkissed against his cheek. "Could...could you tell them?"

"About Mags?" She is surprised, but keeps him tightly held against her chest. Comforted, in the capacity that she has any comfort to give.

"Yes." Finnick confirms. He doesn't think he could tell another person about Mags without crying, and he feels guilty to keep pawning his tribute off on people who have already lost children of their own this year.

"I can't." He says, and he prays that she will understand.

"Alright then." She lets go of him at last, and gives him a cocky smirk. "Back to mentoring, pretty boy." She teases him, and it makes him feel good because that's how things are supposed to be.


End file.
